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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688685">heartsigh</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tat_Tat/pseuds/Tat_Tat'>Tat_Tat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Adventure Time</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Bedroom Sex, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Bondage, Break Up, Breathplay, F/F, First Dates, Knifeplay, Needle play, Rope Bondage, Suspension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:08:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tat_Tat/pseuds/Tat_Tat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bonnie reminisces about Marceline in her ropes</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Princess Bubblegum/Marceline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Edited version will be posted as soon as it's available.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>.i.</p><p>Slinging rope and tying knots was never Marceline’s style. She had tried to learn once or twice to impress Bonnie but the lessons never stuck-more like she didn’t pay attention.</p><p>Which was all well and good anyway, because Bonnie wasn’t into other people tying her up. She’d rather wrap herself up in jute and suspend herself from the ceiling. Something about control. Something she did for herself to be within herself. Something to quiet her mind that was always filled with projects.</p><p>Marceline’d always sit not too far away, watching Bonnie while working on a new song. But more often it was music she already knew- her own or someone else’s. It didn’t matter what she played, Bonnie liked it all. She grew accustomed to Marceline’s sound. Her tying and Marceline playing;they created a rhythm together. A quiet space that at times felt more intimate than when they were in the bedroom.</p><p>And then Marceline left. Bonnie wasn’t sure whose fault it was anymore, her’s or Marcy’s but she was tired of taking all the blame so she blamed Marceline. </p><p>To calm herself she started to tie a chest harness but the room was too quiet. She turned the radio on but it made it worse. It only reminded her of what was missing.</p><p>X</p><p>.ii.</p><p>Bonnie tied Marceline on their second date. Marceline had assumed things and started to take her clothes off before the rope was on but Bonnie stopped her. She said she wanted to take pictures if Marceline was okay with that.</p><p>But Marceline had a feeling that wasn’t the only reason why Bonnie insisted. The only thing she let Marceline take off were her fishnet stockings, only because it turned out to be a pain to tie over them. </p><p>So there Marceline was in her high waisted cutoff shorts and tattered red tank, hanging from the suspension frame in Bonnie’s basement, the flash of the camera in her face. Not how she imagined a camera in her face, but she liked the attention. But she secretly hoped Bonnie’d put down the camera and take advantage of her like this. </p><p>The only thing Bonnie snuck was a kiss, leaving Marceline dizzy for nights on end.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>lmao so I wrote more and I have another chapter in mind too. </p><p>Contains knifeplay, minor blood, and more rope.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On their fifth or sixth date (after a certain point you lose track), Bonnie tied Marceline’s wrists to her headboard and brandished a knife. </p><p>“I’m starting to think you’re kinkier than me, Princess.” Marceline said, smug for now.</p><p>“I like to keep things interesting.” Bonnie said, matter of fact. She eyed the tightness of the restraints around Marceline’s ankles. She’d recently installed eyehooks under her bed for opportunities like this. “I get bored easily.” She continued. She had chalked it up to her high intellect. Vanilla sex felt alright but it lacked something.</p><p>And it just felt right to have Marceline with her wrists tied, arms akimbo, eager for the draw of her knife.</p><p>“I can smell you.” Bonnie said, gently tapping the point of the knife right on her clit. Marceline was still in her shorts but she felt each tap and noticed how uncannily it was timed to her heart pounding in her head, in her clit. She was throbbing.</p><p>“I haven’t even started yet.” Bonnie smirked. There was something brittle and pretty about it. “You’re wet.”</p><p>‘Yeah well you’re really hot.’ Was what Marceline wanted to say. Or: ‘uh duh. That’s what happens when you find the clitoris.’ But that haughtiness she carried with her like a badge, like a shield, like a knife had suddenly petered out. Normally she couldn’t help but let some rage leak out but something about the way Bonnie looked at her made her still and compliant, and oddly quiet.</p><p>Maybe that’s why the others couldn’t hold Marcie’s attention- boys who thought she was easy because she was an ‘alt girl’ and girls who thought it was hot that she was so bad and just enabled her behavior.</p><p>Even though they’d only gone on a few dates, Marceline could already tell Bonnie wouldn’t let her get away with shit. It’d annoy her, she was sure but there was something comforting about being held accountable. It felt like someone cared.</p><p>Even the way Bonnie held her at knifepoint had a tenderness to it. Her hand was steady. She was considerate; the way she listened to Marceline- not just her verbal input but just how she’d pick up on her body language and adjusted accordingly. </p><p>Marceline had a feeling that Bonnie didn’t do this with just anyone, but if she did, she wouldn’t do the exact same thing.</p><p>Before they’d started -how it started was- Marceline commented that her new jeans felt ‘too new’. So Bonnie offered to help and there they were, playing games and taking risks with each sweep of the knife. Bonnie delicately tore holes in the new jeans, only setting aside the knife to use both hands to pull the fabric apart. Then she’d pick up the knife again to continue. </p><p>Midway through she accidentally grazed Marcie, enough to make her bleed.</p><p>“Sorry.” She muttered. Not careless or flippant, just focused.</p><p>She started to reach for a band aid. In that moment Marcie wished she wasn’t tied up so she could stop her.</p><p>“It’s cool.” Was all she could manage. Secretly, she hoped Bonnie’d cut her again, maybe on purpose this time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Contains brief breath play mention, needle play, blood draws and blood play.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bonnie’s guilty pleasure was supernatural romance novels. “Light reads.” She called them. “Trash” was the less affectionate term. Marceline had tried to read them but they were mostly heterosexual and dull. The contents were a stark contrast to the Bonnie she knew. The Bonnie who tied her to the bed and placed a hand over her nose and mouth to restrict her breathing was more familiar.</p><p>But it wasn’t exactly surprising that her girlfriend was into vampires. She had taught Marceline how to draw blood and play with needles. A nice Sunday night was the two of them on the couch, all gloved up with each other’s leg in the other’s lap, threading needles under the skin. </p><p>The first time they had done it, Marceline had flinched but Bonnie’s expression was impassive, just as it was now as Marceline drank from her. Her brow only twitched when Marceline drew the pin prick of a knife over skin; a fresh wound to drink from. </p><p>Sometimes they changed things up but even restrained, Bonnie was somehow in charge. She let Marceline tie her to the chair and cut her open. They pretended they were different people: a vampire hunter caught by a vampire. Marceline was always the vampire. She called dibs and Bonnie preferred it that way. </p><p>Course, the vampire hunter always found a flaw in the rope’s tension and shimmied loose to freedom. Then she’d pin the vampire to the floor, stake over the heart and there’d be this pause, this tension that drew them closer until they were fucking each other instead of trying to kill each other. </p><p>Sometimes they made it to the bed.</p><p>Only sometimes.</p>
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